Apples
by Simacrulum
Summary: Sirius makes a bet that he can win the affections of a Ravenclaw girl before the Halloween Ball, but nothing is quite as expected... Remus Lupin, Lily, OC, Sirius


"Mate, you're running out of time."

"I know that," Sirius growled. "I have it all under control, so bugger off, Prongs."

James smirked.

"I suggest you get a move on, or you'll owe Lily three galleons, and you'll never hear the end of it. Sirius, completely unable to woo a girl.."

"Bloody bet," Sirius growled. "You watch, mate, I'll prove Lily wrong. Cora'll go with me to the Hallow's Eve Ball, just you wait. No girl can resist me. I am irrisistable-ness incarate."

James just laughed and walked away.

…

"Right."

"You're behaving disgracefully."

"Certainly."

"Mother insists that you stop associating with her."

"I see."

"You aren't listening to a word I say!"

"If that were true, I wouldn't respond. I'd just walk away… "

"Coraline, Mother is absolutely furious with you! Friendship with.. with _her? _Bad enough that you're not a Slytherine! Mother called you a disgrace! What's next, Coraline? Will you be kissing mudbloods? It's all absolutely inconcievable!"

"Lucius, brother, you're being silly. If it were inconcieveable, I wouldn't be able to concieve of doing it. And since I _am _doing it, and by doing it I mean making friends, then it is obviously conceiveable. Now, what is the definition of the?"

Lucius responded before he could stop himself.

"The what?" he asked.

"Just the. The word, 'the'. What does it mean?" Cora tilted her head, watching him with her inscrutable, infuriatingly clear blue gaze.

Lucius blinked. He had no idea. The was just a word.

"Don't change the subject!" he said suddenly, aggressively.

Cora smiled.

"What subject?

"Coraline, you're being ridiculous!" Lucious snapped. "Behave yourself."

"But brother, ridiculousness is a family trait," Cora protested. "We inhereited it from our mother, I believe." Disconcertingly, she smiled. Her eyes were bright blue and unreadable.

"What's wrong with you?" Her brother hissed softly, venemous.

"I'm a born Malfoy. All that inbreeding makes for some spectacular and rare afflictions, brother." Cora laughed. "Speaking of afflictions, I need to see the nurse." Cora turned away from her brother, leaving him standing, flushed with anger, in the hall. As she walked away, she commented brightly, "Look at that! I told you I'd just walk away.."

She turned the corner, and only a passing sixth year heard her soft, gleeful comment,

"How marvelous! The ability to walk away from arrogant idiots!"

…

Remus chuckled to himself. Who used the word marvelous? Furthermore, who used the word marvelous when talking to thin air? The strangest people roamed the halls sometimes.

"Yes, yes, I know," Cora said impatiently. "My getting preggers isn't really a problem here, so can we skip the birth defects warning? Just give it to me."

With a tolerant smile, the nurse handed a steaming potion to Cora.

"Drink up."

"Thanks, Madame Kevita." Cora drained the potion, and handed the goblet back to the nurse. Madame Kevita nodded and vanished into her office.

A student watched Cora from a nearby bed.

"What's wrong with you?" she inquired curiously.

"What's wrong with you?" Cora echoed, not unkindly.

The girl smiled, brushing her brown hair out of her eyes.

"Charms went wrong. My legs got turned to bronze."

Cora looked impressed.

"That's pretty awful," she said mildly. "Who are you?"

"My name's Lisa," the girl said.

"Cora Malfoy," Cora said. "Nice meeting you, Lisa. I have to go, but I hope you get well soon."

"Thanks," Lisa said as Cora walked away. "I hope you get better too." As the door clicked shut behind Cora, Lisa blinked. "Madam Kevita?" she called uncertainly. "Can I have some more medicine? I think I just hallucinated a kind member of the Malfoy family."

Loud laughter came from the nurse's office; the nurse seemed to follow it to Lisa, her eyes glittering in their net of wrinkles.

"Go to sleep, Lisa," Madam Kevita said kindly. "Cora's just a living exception to the rule."

Lisa's eyes were wide.

"What rule?"

"That only apples fall from the tree."

…

Cora collapsed into a plush, threadbare armchair in the divinations room.

"Dystopia," she sighed.

"You really must stop coming here instead of the Great Hall. It's probably against the rules." Madame Tillwick was polishing a crystal ball with smooth, unhurried strokes of a pale blue cloth.

"The tea leaves didn't tell me I'd get in trouble." Cora munched on a hot roll.

"That's probably because you never bother to consult them."

"True." Cora finished the roll, and Madame Tillwick handed her the crystal ball.

Cora handed it back.

"I just took my medicine," she said regretfully. "I'm probably useless."

"Probably," Madame Tillwick agreed. "Look anyway." She tossed the crystal ball into Cora's lap.

Reluctantly, Cora lifted the clear sphere and peered at it.

"I only see myself," she started to say, but Madame Tillwick cut her off with an impatient gesture.

"Stop being silly and _look_. If you're going to insist on staying here, I'm going to insist that you practice the Art."

"Fine," Cora growled. She looked.

…

"…dog, stag, and rat guide the wolf in agony. Seven suns rise over the moon…"

Lily crept into the divinations room. She was early, she knew, but showing up early to detention always made Madame Tillwick a little less harsh in her punishments. A strange voice was echoing through the room.

"All the saints gather to watch the spectacle."

Lily stepped closer. The divinations room was never well lit, but she thought she could see a glint of fair hair in one of the chairs ahead. Madame Tillwick was little more than a shadowy lump of scarves and shawls in one corner of the room. There was a faint scritching noise, like a quill against paper.

The stange voice softened, evened out.

"The Grimn that is not will lose and win. The crow will swallow the moon. All saints gathering to watch the spectacle.."

There was a soft, ragged cough.

"Madame Tillwick, I just can't see anything," Lily heard a familiar voice say. "Sorry."

"That's quite all right, m'dear," Madame Tillwick said. "you can try again some other time."

Cora rose from the chair and set a crystal ball on a nearby table. She turned and noticed Lily.

"Hey," she said. "What are you doing here?"

"Detention," Lily said. "I'll see you tomorrow? For the Hogsmeade trip?"

Cora smiled.

"I'll meet you by the doors to the Great Hall," Cora said. "Have fun being punished."

Lily winced ruefully.

"Right."

Cora grinned and left.

"So," Madame Tillwick said, "How much did you hear?"

"You lied to her," Lily accused as she stepped into the room. "That sounded like prophecy."

"You didn't mention it to Cora when you spoke," Tillwick observed. "Obviously, you know I must have a reason."

Lily frowned.

"But why wouldn't you tell her?"

"She doesn't want to know. I told her, once, and she wouldn't practice the Art for two months afterward. She says she doesn't want to know the future. She's willing to tell me, to read shapes in the crystal ball or tea leaves, but she refuses to interpret anything."

"That's really weird," Lily said dubiously. Madame Tillwick shrugged.

"She wants the future to be a surprise," she said. "Knowing what comes next, for her, is awful. It takes the joy from life." She shuffled some papers on her desk. "I take it you're friends with Miss Malfoy, then?"

"What?"

"You're friends with Cora?"

"Well, yes. I thought you said 'Malfoy.'"

Madame Tillwick looked perpelexed.

"Cora is Malfoy. Coraline Malfoy. Lucius' little sister."

Lily felt her jaw drop.

"_What?"_


End file.
